


so sweet a devotion

by brooklynstevies



Series: the addendum series [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas is going to give it to him, Dean Winchester Has Self-Worth Issues, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 11:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30037713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brooklynstevies/pseuds/brooklynstevies
Summary: castiel watches the righteous man and feels fury. not at him, but for him. it’s strange, this feeling. he hasn’t put a name on it yet—he doesn’t have a word—but if this is doubt, if this is the beginning of falling, then at least he needs to know something.or a continuation of on the head of a pin.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: the addendum series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2209710
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29





	so sweet a devotion

Dean turns his head, away from Castiel, and says _go_. The angel does not want to, something tethering him to the chair, but Dean grits out the word again and so Castiel goes. It’s the first in many decisions that he comes to view of as _his_.

-

Speaking to Anna does not alleviate his doubt, nor does not alleviate the fear he has. Every angel will say that being beloved of God is something to aspire to; in this way, following orders is divine. It does not explain the way this feeling of want fills his entire body. Castiel feels, for the first time, and somehow it is everything that he’s been seeing on Earth for millennia.

When Dean tells him to go, it is with a flurry of wings and purpose. To be ordered around by a mere human, even as one so important as Dean Winchester, is unheard of. It’s unspeakable. 

But Castiel goes anyway. The more he thinks on it, the more he contemplates about what has just occurred—the worthlessness that Dean feels, the events leading up to devil’s trap breaking, the way he rushed in at the first cry that made its way out of Dean’s mouth, the way _I guess I’m not the man either of our dads wanted me to be_ and _find someone else_ lingers in the room—the more he feels. It’s not just anger, but sadness and disappointment. 

Castiel mulls it over even as he seeks revelation, even after the stares of his brothers and sisters follow him, leading him down to a park bench covered in snow. 

In the few days between leaving Dean and now, Castiel has made his decision. It is, perhaps, the second one that he can claim as his alone.

-

Dean is asleep on the bed when Castiel arrives; it’s an unusual sight, given the frequency of Dean’s nightmares. Sam is gone, whether from searching for Ruby again or some other task, Castiel does not know. And in this moment, he does not care.

Dean is asleep on the bed, legs akimbo but hands clenching the pillow. He’s likely in the throes of a nightmare. Cas strides forward, one hand outstretched to dispel them. The angel’s hand goes so far as to sink into the short hairs at Dean’s nape before the man snaps up, a gun in hand. 

There is no trace of the scared look on Dean’s face. He’s alert. Tired, yes, but ultimately alert, like he’s been all his life. 

A second passes before Dean recognizes Castiel, drawing back and running a hand down his face. A wince, then, as Dean forgets the open wounds. 

“Cas, man, wear a fucking bell. Or better yet, don’t come in at 4 in the fucking morning.”

Castiel tilts his head, unsure of the reference. He presumes it must be something specific on Earth. After all, it’s been sometime since he’d been summoned for a mission. 

“I had something to do.”

Dean leaps up at this, crossing over to where Castiel is standing. He’s angry. “I told you. Find someone else. It isn’t me.” 

Dean crowds closer to Cas, hands hovering over the lapels of the trench coat, about to push him out. He forgets that Castiel is only in a vessel, that the angel’s power is incomprehensible to humans. 

Cas thinks Dean would have realized this. But he only replies, “That is not what I mean.” 

He starts walking forward, forcing Dean to retreat until the back of the man’s knees hit the bed and he collapses. Dean looks incredulous, staring up at Castiel with a mixture of awe and fury. It turns into a look of shock as Castiel splays his hand at the hinge of Dean’s jaw, a shudder running through his entire body at the contact. 

Dean has never looked more pentinent than he does right now—eyes fixed on Castiel’s face, unwavering—than in the time since Castiel dragged him out of Hell. 

Something inside of Cas wants them to stay like this forever. 

Golden light fills the room as Cas heals Dean and suddenly the weight on Dean’s chest feels a bit lighter, his breathing less shallow from the broken ribs. The sensation makes the man rock back, eyes finally closing, as flesh knits itself back together. 

This is the third decision that Castiel makes that is his. Healing someone without divine purpose, without it being a means to an end, is blasphemous. It does not make Castiel any more repentant as he does so. 

It feels right. 

When the healing is done and the light gone, Castiel doesn’t remove his hand. Instead, he keeps it there. It’s interesting what the touch does to Dean. The man’s eyes are still closed, lips slightly parted, as he sways a little. 

In this way, too, Castiel also feels right. 

“You want absolution, forgiveness.” The words are an echo in the quiet room. Such weight they hold. “It is not in my power to give you this.”

Dean’s eyes fly open, emotions like pain and worthlessness flitting across his face. He tries to turn away, but Castiel holds still. Makes Dean look at him. 

Castiel’s voice is still low when he continues. “It is not in my power to give you this, but I forgive you. I forgive you although it is not needed.”

The breath that escapes Dean is sudden, harsh. He cannot look away from Cas, rapt with attention. He also wants to look away. Cas does not let him. 

“Did I not say it was not blame that falls upon you, but fate?”

There is no answer, but Castiel continues anyway. 

“When I pulled you out of Hell, it was with a purpose. When I pulled you out of Hell, it was a battle. From the moment I touched your soul, something changed. I did not come all this way, I did not start having doubts for this. To have you view yourself as this unworthy. Do you understand, Dean Winchester?”

The room is silent. For all of Dean Winchester’s bravado and bluster, Castiel is right in assuming it can be pulled back like a veneer. 

“Do you understand?” 

Dean nods, once. There are no other words, not right now. 

Castiel steps back. The change is immediate—Dean rocks forward, a product of exhaustion, even as he’s gripping the sheets. Castiel tilts his head, examining the man before him. A second passes before Castiel is gone, leaving Dean in his wake.

-

The garrison is right in that his sympathies lie with the human. They have laid with him since Castiel pulled Dean out of Hell.

Castiel is not foolish. He knows this. Yes, there are still doubts. But looking at Dean Winchester now, he’s beginning to understand why he feels an affinity for the man. Something about raging at the world and say, _no, this is not what I wanted, let me change it _. It is Castiel’s fourth decision that is his and solely his to follow Dean Winchester to the end, whenever that might be.__

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!


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